


good boy

by PaintedVanilla



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aftercare, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Love, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Restraints, Safeword Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 21:12:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19753921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedVanilla/pseuds/PaintedVanilla
Summary: “You’re such a good boy.”





	good boy

Crowley feels like the blush on his face is never going to go away.

He squirms, crossing his legs at his ankles and trying hard not to think about his current predicament. His hands are tied above his head, he’s completely naked, and he’s already half hard just from the idea of what Aziraphale is about to treat him to. 

His angel is sitting on the edge of the bed, undressed to a certain degree but still very much clothed. The contrast makes Crowley hot with vulnerability, and he feels his blush spill down his neck.

Aziraphale is watching him with eyes that spell out adoration. “You’re pretty when you blush.”

Crowley’s cock twitches, and he bites his lip to stifle the noise he tries to make. A smile pulls at Aziraphale’s lips, tugging it up at the corners, as he leans closer. “All it takes is well timed compliments, isn’t that right?”

“Don’t have to be well timed,” Crowley manages.

Aziraphale’s smile widens. “Tell me what you’d like me to do to you, Crowley.”

Crowley drops his head, his blush intensifying. Aziraphale reaches forward and tilts his chin up, forcing him to look at him. “Crowley,” he says gently, “tell me exactly what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

Crowley shakes his head. “S’too much.”

“Nothing is too much to ask for,” Aziraphale assures him. “Besides— I know what you want. Just tell me, Crowley and it’s all yours.”

Crowley shakes a little bit as he bites the words out. “Praise me.”

Aziraphale hums. “Can you be more specific?”

Crowley whines. “Aziraphale—”

“Be more specific,” Aziraphale instructs him, “and I’ll give you every single thing you want.”

Crowley takes a shaky breath. “Praise me… praise my body… praise my cock…”

“Yes,” Aziraphale encourages. “Tell me more.”

“Tell me you adore me,” Crowley says, and then seems to hesitate. “It’s— it’s okay if you don’t actually—”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale says sternly.

“Right, sorry,” Crowley says breathlessly. “Please, just…  _ please  _ praise me. Tell me I’m good. Tell me how much you love me.”

Aziraphale reaches out and strokes his pretty cheekbone, caressing his face, a loving look of adoration in his eyes. 

“Oh,” he says gently. “Good boy.”

The effect of the words is instant; Crowley’s pupils are blown wide and his cock hardens fully, his hips canting up, searching for a source of friction. Aziraphale smiles, bites back a taunt about how easy it is, and climbs further onto the bed.

“You’re ridiculously attractive when you’re horny, do you know that, darling?” Aziraphale asks; he runs a hand up Crowley’s thigh and he jerks his hips, biting out a desperate noise. “What I wouldn’t give to watch you pleasure yourself. You’d wrap those deft fingers around your handsome cock—”

Crowley  _ moans. _

“— or perhaps you‘d rut into something. The thought of you humping a pillow making all those little noises of yours is quite exciting to me, I must admit.”

“I will, if you want,” Crowley says desperately, twisting against the restraints. “I’ll do anything you want, angel, I swear—”

“I know, darling,” Aziraphale soothes him. “But you don’t have to do anything at all. Just lay there and look pretty for me, there’s a good boy.”

Crowley moans loudly, bucking his hips up, begging wordlessly for Aziraphale to touch him. He continues stroking his thighs instead. 

“You’re so good for me, my sweet, do you know that?” Aziraphale asks. “I know you’d do anything in the world for just a sliver of praise. I appreciate that very much about you. You’re dedicated. You know what to do to deserve it. But here’s a secret— you always deserve it. Which is why this evening you don’t have to do anything at all. Just lay there and let me lavish love and devotion upon you, just like you deserve.”

Crowley whines, rutting his hips up into the air, desperate for any amount of friction. Aziraphale pins him back down to the bed and he moans. 

He traces his fingers lightly on Crowley’s sharp hip bone. “Do you want me to say something blasphemous?”

Crowley’s eyes get impossibly wider. He nods, leaning forward eagerly. Aziraphale strokes his hip and says, “Anthony, I am utterly devoted to you. Your body is a temple at which I worship.”

Crowley  _ moans.  _ It’s a very specific sound, one he normally only makes when his cock is deep in Aziraphale’s throat, or enveloped in his tight heat. He makes it now completely untouched, only in response to his words.

Aziraphale continues. “I wish to spend morning, noon and evening devoting myself to you. Like the Romans used to, I want to build shrines to you. Beg for the opportunity to please you. Would you like that…?”

Aziraphale leans close and kisses Crowley slowly, before pulling away to whisper against his lips: “… my Lord?”

Crowley moans, his eyes rolling back in his head as he bucks his hips up and comes completely untouched. Aziraphale watches him in awe, dropping down between his legs to lick his stomach clean.

“Oh, Anthony,” he breathes. “You’re lovely— oh, you’re just  _ divine.” _

Crowley shudders, letting his head fall back. Aziraphale licks his stomach clean, and then briefly takes his cockhead in his mouth. Crowley shouts at that, hissing and leaning up into the heat, desperate for more, but Aziraphale quickly releases him.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” he says warmly. “As much as I’d love to suck your handsome cock, I think you’d prefer my mouth to do other things.”

Crowley swallows and nods his head, and Aziraphale begins kissing up his body. “Tell me, my dear boy,” he says, kissing where Crowley’s ribs protrude, “how would you like me to have you? What would you like me to do to you?”

“Anything,” Crowley says desperately, squirming. “Anything— anything you want,  _ please  _ just touch me, angel,  _ please—” _

“You are very devoted to the pleasure of your lover, Crowley,” Aziraphale says sweetly. “But I don’t want you to think about what I want. I want to know what  _ you  _ want.”

“I want anything,” Crowley insists. “Anything you’ll give me— anything in the world, please—  _ pleassse—” _

“You are a sweet little thing,” Aziraphale coos. “Tell me exactly what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

Crowley shuts his eyes, breathing heavy. Aziraphale waits a long moment, before he leans in close and kisses Crowley sweetly. Crowley responds slowly, kissing back weakly until Aziraphale pulls away.

“Would you like me to fuck you?” Aziraphale asks. 

Hesitantly, Crowley shakes his head.

“Oh?” Aziraphale asks, somewhat surprised.

“I mean, you— you can if you want,” Crowley says quickly.

“No, no,” Aziraphale assures him. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, darling. Tell me what you want, and we’ll do exactly that.”

Crowley swallows. “Just— touch me, please,” he begs, canting his hips up. “Touch me and— tell me I’m good…”

“Oh, you are,” Aziraphale promises him; he wraps a hand around Crowley’s cock, and he whimpers. Aziraphale continues as he begins stroking him. “You’re such a good boy, Crowley, oh, I do adore taking you apart like this.”

“Fuck,” Crowley sobs, rutting into Aziraphale’s hand.

“Look at you,” Aziraphale says warmly. “You’re so handsome, Crowley. When you’d like, I’d like to touch you everywhere, kiss you everywhere. You deserve to be worshiped, Crowley— I love you, I love your body, I love your cock, I love pleasuring you, I love giving you what you want.”

Crowley cries and thrusts into Aziraphale’s hand, coming messily; Aziraphale strokes him through it, and Crowley whimpers, over sensitive. “Enough— Aziraphale— angel—  _ Eden—  _ please—”

Aziraphale lets go of him, miracling him clean and free of his restraints; immediately, Crowley wraps his arms around him, clinging and inviting Aziraphale to hold him close. Aziraphale obliges him, pulling him close and whispering in his ear, “You were so wonderful, my dear. You’re such a good boy.”

Crowley shudders, pressing his face into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Aziraphale says quietly, holding him close. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Crowley nods. “Just— give me a minute. Give me a minute and I can— I can return the favor—”

“No, no,” Aziraphale says gently; he eases Crowley down onto the bed, despite his protests. “That’s enough for tonight.”

“You didn’t come,” Crowley insists. “You’re not even undressed.”

“I had a very wonderful time pleasing you,” Aziraphale assures him. “I’m quite sated for the evening.”

Crowley hesitates. “Are you sure?”

“Quite.” Aziraphale kisses along his jawline. “I love you very much, Crowley. When you’re enjoying yourself, I’m enjoying myself.”

“Sap,” Crowley hisses under his breath, turning in Aziraphale’s arms and clinging to him tightly.


End file.
